


Not a Ghost

by Duchesse



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, F/M, If you're into touching this is it, Masturbation, Romance, Smut, So much touching it's ridic, a lot of touching, angst everywhere kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren despised being touched. He was like a ghost, an illusion that didn’t exist. You wanted to see beneath the mask.</p><p>[Kylo Ren x Reader].</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this happened one night and I dunno. For some reason the first part got quite a few notes on tumblr. So, hey. Whatever. This will likely be four parts and that's the end of it. I'm basically just trying to keep myself writing. If you have any requests, feel free to send them.
> 
> Tbh. I remembered Matt the Technician. That's what happened.

Kylo Ren was a ghost. It was a conclusion that you drew from months of employment in the Order and being in somewhat close proximity of him at times. The first you had mentioned that to your coworker, she burst into such a fierce fit of laughter that you watched her eyes turn red, tearing rimming the corners, and her laughs faded into airy wheezes. You knew it sounded ridiculous, Ren had a reputation to uphold with his trudging about noisily about the base at strange hours, and wrecking valuable instrument panels. Many of which had been your responsibility to repair, much to your exasperation.

Still, there was no other way to describe it. The way he easily sidestepped you when you would get too close, or shift his arm when yours was but centimeters from touching his own. It was in the way he breezed past you in the hallway, his cape winding around him with his long, graceless strides. Most of all, it was in the way you found him in your mind, devouring your thoughts as minutes and hours of your life were lost.

He was a specter, both evasive and invasive. You couldn’t touch him, he wouldn’t let you. Perhaps that should’ve been enough to dissuade you, your pursuit wouldn’t bear fruit. Still, there was some urge inside of you, it was indescribable, foreign, and powerful. It wouldn’t let you stop and you felt that despite your fear of the man and his abilities, you didn’t want to.

So, you continued to try.

Always at arms length, but never further than that. That’s where you accepted yourself to stay and where he let you be. Truthfully, he didn’t speak to you much. And in the occasions that he would, it was often well after the adrenaline had rushed from his veins and his body ceased to heave, and you were on sight with your crew to fix the damage he caused.

“Fix this immediately.” You remembered that as the first thing he had ever said to you after once witnessing the destruction of one of the rooms. You remained standing, anchored to your spot in the door ways despite your eyes burning and the smoke smelling distinctly electrical. Once the smoke cleared, you saw him staring in your direction and an uneasy shudder shot down your spine.

Even now, you felt an uneasiness that you tried to quell as you scanned the room for a mental note on the damage done. You waited for Ren to put his lightsaber away before going any further, several tentative steps before you let yourself fall back into regular strides. 

You acknowledged him with a nod, crossing the room to begin evaluating what you could salvage and what would need to be ordered. Most of it was no longer functioning, only heaps of metal, cracked transparisteel, and broken buttons. There wasn’t much you could do in this situation.

To your surprise, Ren spoke, though the voice distortion that the mask created made you jump. 

“What can be repaired?”

“Not much. You’ve completely destroyed the instrument panel, I doubt I’ll be able to salvage more than a couple pieces at this rate.” Your reply was so casual, undaunted by the fact that he had just laid waste to everything in sight.

“But, you’ll find a way. You always do.” This time you flinched, his voice nearer than it was before. You hadn’t noticed he even moved. Moreover, you swore that he just paid you a compliment, or was it a cleverly disguised command? It could have been sarcasm and he was waiting for you to land an insult in his direction.

You faced him completely, abandoning your belt of tools on the destroyed panel. That’s when you engaged in the lengthiest staring contest you had ever been in. At least, you assumed he was staring, there was no way of knowing with that mask of his. 

Without realizing it, your brow furrowed slightly and the gap between your bodies diminished. The closeness was new and exciting, your heart pounded fiercely in your chest and a rush of blood flowed into your cheeks and burned your ears. This wasn’t anything to get so worked up over, yet you were.

Kylo didn’t make any motion to move, his body was stiff. It was as if the floor melted beneath his feet and kept him there. You wet your lips and gently rest your fingertips against the front of his mask and felt upward towards the brow, pressing in to trace around the intricate pattern. 

What was going through his mind? You wished you knew. You wanted to see beyond that pane that blocked out his eyes. You wanted to see the man behind the mask. 

Daringly, you traced your fingers around the lines and cracks and towards the back of the mask. Kylo seemed frozen in time, unable to respond to your touch even as you leaned in closer, chest barely touching, forearms grazing his cloak. You wanted to believe that maybe the sound in your ears wasn’t your heart but his. 

Your eyes searched the mask constantly as your fingers circled two divots near the base, what you suspected to be what would remove the seal. 

As you pressed, you felt your hands being enveloped by warm leather and roughly wrenched away from his mask. You hissed in pain with how tightly he gripped them, his long fingers twitched beneath the leather and left marks in your skin. But, more startlingly than this, was the fact he had yet to release you.

You twisted your face and bit onto your lower lip, and went to pull your hands away. Kylo kept you in place, the face of the mask never strayed an inch—you knew he was still looking at you. However, the pain lessened though he still held firmly. You noticed his fingers began to skim across the back of your hand, repeatedly stroking the contours and your knuckles.

Soon enough, Kylo released your hands and you were left cold and wanting.

“Don’t do that… again.” The warning was there, but he wasn’t. They were only words. You only watched as Kylo backed away before turning on his heel and rushing out of the room, his cloak the final remnant of him and he was out of sight.

You stumbled back into the instrument panel and rubbed your fingers together, trying to simulate the warmth that his had.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ay. second chapter-thing. two more and this is finished, unless i get asked to do more. but after the fourth part i'm not sure where i'd have left to go with this particular idea.

Time failed to be of little importance to you following Kylo Ren’s departure from the base some odd months ago. Just as he had entered your life a specter, he left much the same way. There was a bitterness in your heart that you couldn’t fathom; a dull ache in your chest that made it hurt to think about. He left without a word, without a glance, and without being seen. You thought yourself petty to expect anything else from him. The notion crossed you mind that perhaps he viewed you with more contempt than anyone, and the memory of cold metal against your fingertips was nothing but a fragment from your desires.

In the end, he was still a ghost that you couldn’t reach and couldn’t touch. 

Your fingers grasped nothing but thin air even when he stood in front of you, so close you could see him breathe. You remembered the red marks that he left in your skin and how warm his hands were despite the thick gloves he wore.

Days thereafter left you craving more. That insatiable urge haunted you fiercely, disrupting your thoughts of anything other than him. Sometimes, in your dreams, everything that you wanted would happen—every fantasy, every word, every touch unfolded beautifully. Those fantasies put the world around you into a haze. In more than once instance you were jarred out of your daydreams and disappointed.

You hated that you couldn’t discern what you truly wanted. Was it possible you lusted for him or the power he possessed? You felt it ignorant to call it love or infatuation, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to dismiss those possibilities either. One day, there was a flash behind weary eyes as you considered that, potentially, none of it had been your doing at all.

Did that mean that it was Kylo who was pulling invisible wires? Or something even greater than him? You could only assume.

Regardless, you despised yourself for succumbing to it. 

However, you were a human wrought with weakness. Word spread through the base like the breeze carrying whispers that the Knights had returned. Their mission an apparent success, but you didn’t care about that. Your excitement threatened to tear through the veil of deceit you put up for others and yourself. Even your coworker had made a mention of your behavior. With a taut smile and a lie, you assured her everything was fine.

It wasn’t until three days after the Knights returned that you saw Ren again. He and General Hux were engaged in another heated discussion, one that no doubt would leave a trail of destruction that you would have to clean up. Recalling the familiar distaste for Ren’s ineffective anger outlets, you quelled the jitters in your stomach as you passed them into an adjoining hallway.

You never noticed Ren’s eyes on you as you went, nor when he followed you into one of the rooms that was to be your last station to check for that day. It was under your jurisdiction to handle minor malfunctions as well as the remnants of Ren’s tantrums. You heard the doors open with a mechanical hiss, but only gave a dismissive bob of your head in that direction.

“You’ve felt it, too.” The abruptness of Ren’s distorted voice made you launch upright out of your seat, nerves on edge. For a moment you only gawked at him uncertainly, and then you realized.

Kylo Ren had came to you.

You remembered what he said before and buried your nervousness. “I’ve felt it? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The pull,” he started, his long strides carrying him across the room towards you. As uneasy as his confrontation and gait made you, you found yourself anticipating him getting closer. And he did. “It’s powerful. It’s pulling us towards one another. I know that you’ve felt it as I have.”

You didn’t understand what he was saying. While you considered the impact his words had on you, he ventured into your space and your heart jumped at the proximity. It was reminiscent of the night when you nearly held his face in your hands instead of his mask.

“I don’t understand these feelings.” It sounded like a confession in the way his distorted voice lowered even more and he leaned in just slightly. It left you enthralled and greedy. 

Reluctantly, you reached your hands to his mask for the second time. Just as your palms came to rest on the sides, you felt him tilt the weight of his head into one of your hands. You wanted to believe that his desperation was a mirror image of your own. With the tips of your nails, you slid them towards the base of the mask.

“I don’t get them, either. I’m actually scared…” you said, quietly. You shifted your gaze around his mask, recalling the last time you did this.

“Of me?” he said, pressing you to finish your sentence.

You stared at him for a moment, unblinking. You’d be a fool not to fear him. He had never given you a reason to associate him with anything else other than fear. Despite this, you couldn’t refute the strong attraction, the pull, the desire to feel him.

This ghost of yours.

“Of you, of many things.” You replied, finally. His chest heaved and you heard the exhale through the distortion. It gave you a surge of confidence. “Stop hiding from me.”

You caught him off-guard, you knew you did. That had been the gustiest thing you ever managed to say to him. It flashed through you mind that it had been unwise to give a command to him, especially him. But, he wasn’t going to do anything, not now.

He stood stiffly as he reached up to the corners of the mask and removed it, letting it hang from one hand as he gauged your reaction. Your lips parted and closed in your effort to draw the words from your throat, mouth suddenly dry. The things you wanted to say were a mangled mess in your mind that you floundered to string together. Nothing was coming out.

“Am I what you expected?” 

You couldn’t answer. You hadn’t known what to expect. 

“Kylo.” You said, airily. The corner of his mouth twitched when you spoke his name, his gaze searing into your own, into your head. There was something about the way that those dark eyes looked at you that made you truly afraid, yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from. You felt ensnared like prey and he didn’t intend to let you go.

At that point, you didn’t care. You wet your lips and lifted your hand towards his face. For a moment, you didn’t make a motion to do anything else. It was there in your mind that this was only a fantasy, that all of this had never transpired. It was only wishful thinking. Your fingertips touched his jaw and your breathing hitched.

“You are real… you’re here. I can’t believe it.” You whispered, turning your hand to drag your knuckles along the shape of his set jaw, marveling at the smoothness of his skin. Your fingers feathered up the side of his face to his cheek where you felt the bone through his skin, and traced across some roughness. Shifting your eyes from his cheek, you made a mental note of his tall nose, the thickness of his lower lip, and prominence of his cupid’s bow.

You were sorely tempted to comb your fingers through his tousled hair, but thought better of it with the way he stared down at you. Smiling coyly, you ghost your fingers down the length of his face to the tip of his chin. As you withdrew your hand, he seized it and grazed your knuckles against his face once more, leaning into the touch.

“You’re afraid of me. I can hear in your heart. It’s in your eyes and your mind. Why do you continue to do this?” he asked, his words were hardly loud enough to hear. You were convinced that it wasn’t a question posed to you. He was uncertain and held tighter, his fingers bit into your skin through his gloves.

“I don’t know. I thought you were a ghost and that I couldn’t touch you,” you paused, adjusting your hand beneath his to caress his cheek. You turned his face so he was looking directly at you, his stare smoldering. “I don’t want to forget what this feels like.”

You felt strange. Everything about the situation was unnatural, from you initiating the situation clear down to the fact that he hadn’t resisted any of this. You couldn’t deny the that you wanted him. He wanted you, too.

He held your hand firmly against his face, staring at your lips as you stood on your toes and leaned in. You heartbeat drummed violently against your ears, and your hands felt clammy. As your breaths mingled and your lips touched his, turned his face away and dropped your hand.

“Enough,” he snarled, putting distance between your bodies and clenched his jaw. You stood rooted to your spot, fumbling to find words that just didn’t appear in your mind. He placed the mask of his head once more and turned away towards the door.

“Kylo, wa—”

He extended his hand, you flinched reflexively. To your surprise and perhaps his own, he recoiled and lowered his hand under his cloak. 

“Stay out of my way.”

He departed with those words. You weren’t even sure if you saw him leave or you had just looked past him the entire time. The room was eerily still without him there. Your lips still tingled from the brief touch with his and you still remember how his skin felt against your hand.

You collapsed into the chair below, not registering the complex code glowing on the instrument panel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ay, third part. one more to go and this thingy is done. i'm kinda excited to finish something so early in the year. the last part will be smut, lord save us all.

“We have received a request for you. As of tomorrow, you will be relocated to First Order base on Aytris-9 until further notice.”

Those words had sawed through your heart and stole the air from your lungs. You recalled the difficulty to speak, to string something simple enough to acknowledge what he had just briefed. General Hux regarded you coolly from down the length of his nose, his posture impeccable. He was menacing in the way he stood confidently, the dim glow from overhead lights cast an eerie shadow over his face. You regretted not having the courage to argue, nor to inquire more on the request. He dismissed you despite your evident distress, leaving you to your thoughts and the confusion that built into anger.

It wasn’t difficult to shake those feelings, though. By the time you reached your quarters with tools in tow to pack away, the rush of anger and disquiet in your mind had settled. You were too exhausted to feel much of anything. When you learned that Kylo Ren had another violent fit, there was the slightest twinge of annoyance–towards him and yourself. At the time, you weren’t surprised by how fast you grabbed your belt and darted into the hallway. It was habitual, an instinctual reaction that you didn’t consider. Until you did.

Your legs were suddenly anchored to the floor, the realization struck you like a blow to the chest. And you knew why.

Kylo Ren wasn’t your responsibility anymore.

All things considered, you knew that was supposed to be a good thing. There was a part of you which felt liberated at this acceptance, a sense of peace you had forgotten. What remained was that sickness for him you just couldn’t satisfy. He was a deadly vice, and addiction in which you had built a dependency. Since the night your fingertips touched his skin so long ago, you’ve just wanted more. The delicate touch of your lips on his haunted you. It wasn’t enough.

As of recent, you had heard more about his endeavors than you seen them, his presence oddly absent in your eye compared to others. In those moments, you struggled to keep yourself from reaffirming if he had been there at all. But, you remembered the intensity of not only his eyes, but his entire face. The deep creases that formed in his brow while you explored his jaw, the way his lips parted when you drew him closer, and his eyelids fell when your lips brushed his.

You thought about that night often. You thought about even as you boarded the ship to take you to Aytris-9 with three other crew. When you noticed a silhouette of black from the corner of your eye at the entrance of the hangar, you wondered if he thought about it, too.

However, as you nestled into your life on Aytris-9 and adapted to the tedious workload, you found yourself thinking of it less with each day. Soon enough, your memories of that night only sifted into your consciousness when you were alone. And then eventually not at all. Kylo Ren wasn’t so easily forgettable, though he was much to you now that he was in the beginning. The thought of the sight of him, his voice, and his face beneath the mask felt foreign and surreal to you now.

You were convinced that someday Kylo Ren would only exist to you, nothing more.

Six months into your residency on base, he had become just that. He was left in the farthest corners of your mind along with what feelings you had possessed. It surprised you to an extent, you realized one night. With topics of conversation, it was an inevitability that he would be mentioned. His name spoken from the mouths of others didn’t demand your attention, nor were you particularly fascinated by what they had to say.

Even when the captain heading Aytris-9 base strode into the command center with Kylo Ren at some distance behind. At first, your reaction was underwhelming yet typical. You stared. From the corner of the room, you observed wordlessly, occasionally peeking over your shoulder at the distraught technician attempting to decipher an intricate code. Part of you wanted to play the savior and offer her a few hints lest she had a meltdown, but the other dismissed her struggle as one you had experienced yourself long ago.

You laughed through your nose as you trained your eyes on Kylo once more, the wry smile slipping from your lips noticing him looking in your direction. Your gut clenched uncomfortably, prompting you to spin round in your chair. The anxiety continued to stack in your chest and migrated to your throat. You thought you might vomit. In effort to quell the feeling, you shoved the technician’s chair your knee and rolled yours into her place, busying yourself with the code on the screen.

The technician marveled, you were afraid saliva would start to dribble out the corners of your mouth, and there was no foreseeable end to the code.

You couldn’t understand why you felt as you did. Kylo Ren had left your life, faded from your mind, and the whirlwind of inexplicable emotions vanished with him. Nothing good would come from involvement with him, that was partially why you drowned yourself in your work to forget. For your own sake. For the sanity he had been sucking away from you. You refused to follow him down that winding, treacherous path. And the further you strayed from him, the more brilliant the path to light became.

You wouldn’t be lead to ruin.

When the captain led Kylo out of the command center, there was a collective of relieved exhales, one of which belonged to you. The technician sitting adjacent to you looked as though she was ready to collapse. For them, the stress was temporary and they were rewarded with peace. You weren’t afforded such a luxury.

Much of that night you spent rolling restlessly, periodically glancing towards the viewport at one of the seven moons of Aytris-9. When sleep couldn’t force its way past your chaotic thoughts or uneasiness that rattled your body, you worked. You sat in one of the workrooms spread out across the base and busied yourself even with the most menial tasks.

Anything.

It took you a long time to take notice that Kylo was inside the room, his presence alarming. Your body seized up and the Harris wrench in your hand clattered nosily on the table below.

You didn’t try to pick it up and you didn’t look at him.

“You’re not very good at listening to your own words.” 

He seemed to take your statement as an invitation to move freely about the room, though you sincerely doubted he would be that sensitive to your discomfort. The rustling of his cloak and boots on the floor were the only indications you had to determine where he wandered in the room. Your eyes still burned holes into the table while you listened.

First, he walked to the opposite end of the room, no doubt to inspect the piles of scrap tightly packed into the corner.

“Hux is considering reinstating you on Starkiller.” He never hesitated in jumping straight to the point.

“I don’t know why he would. I’ve never said anything bad about Aytris-9 in my reports to him,” you said, confused.

You followed his movements as his strides carried him to the end of the room behind you. There was a row of lockers to house tools and other equipment needed for your job. Once hearing a distinctive clanging, you knew he was rummaging through things. Curious enough, you lifted your eyes towards him and turned in your chair.

He was engrossed with a socket wrench, disinterested in what you said said. Frowning at this, you grabbed the Harris wrench from the table and crossed the room to pull the tool from his hand. He snapped his head at you, his hand frozen midair. You were sure your annoyance towards him had done it, otherwise you wouldn’t have been gutsy enough to do something like that. He said nothing while you replaced the wrenches in the locker and sealed it.

Feeling his gaze on you even through the mask, you checked the locket once more and walked back to the table. “I don’t want to go back to Starkiller.”

“Why?” he asked fiercely, you flinched.

You probed your thoughts for best response you could give, or, rather, the best excuse. There was a greater reason why you wanted to distance yourself from that base, yet there the reason stood. He was growing agitated, you didn’t need to look at him to know that.

“Because, I’ve made a difference on this base,” you replied, truthfully. “I like it here more than Starkiller.”

You tracked his heavy footfalls up to you. He stirred nosily behind you before slamming his mask down on the table. The ferocity of the action jarred you. The sharpness of the sound reverberated off the walls, and into your head. When you finally summoned the courage to meet his gaze, you found yourself searching his face.

“Because of me?” he enunciated each word with such intensity, you couldn’t swallow the lump in your throat to disagree. He drew closer to you. “You’ve tormented me for so long. Why? Why are you burned into my mind?”

You shook your head. Each step you took away from him he took closer until you felt your back press into the wall. And he was there caging you in. He slowly reached out towards your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb, ghosting rest of his fingers against the back of your neck. A shudder shot down your spine as goosebumps rose on your skin at the gentle touch.

His eyes seared into yours, you couldn’t look away.

“Have you suffered as much as I have?”

You swallowed thickly and wet your lips. In the months that had passed, you thought you managed to escape him and those feelings. You knew yourself wrong when you felt his skin under your fingertips and traced them to his chin. Following the curve of his lower lip, you glided your finger across the flushed skin and parted your own as result.

It was frustrating quickly you were unhinged by him. How a simple touch made you want him more than you ever had before. You didn’t think to resist when you felt him tilt your head back and press his lips against yours.

The kiss was rough and greedy, his fingers pressed hard into your skin to keep you close, almost as though he were afraid that you would run. You attempted to quell that suspicion by working your other hand down the length of his arm until you twined your fingers with his. He broke the kiss abruptly, leaving your lips cold and tingling. You offered a slight smile to the way he stared at you, doubtlessly annoyed that you were focused on something else. Without a word, you coaxed him into wrapping his arm around your waist, situating his hand atop of your hip.

You found it humorous that even though he initiated the kiss, he still kept you away, bodies never truly touching. Tilting your head once more, you leaned in and kissed him with a confidence you didn’t thank you had. He had no qualms with returning it, pushing his mouth onto yours as he had before.

The thought flashed through your mind that perhaps he was trying to convey his feelings through the kiss. There was a desperation in the way he kissed you, but also greed. You knew he wanted you.

You knew by the way he conceded and pushed his hips against yours, sufficiently trapping your body against his and the wall behind you. How he trailed his hand from your neck and down the curves of your body, groping through your uniform, making sure that you felt him touching you. You reveled in the feeling.

It was when the cool air in the room danced across your skin that you moved out of the kiss, turning your face away from him. He let you pry his hand away from the zipper on the front of your uniform easily enough, his face hung but mere centimeters from your own. Slipping his hand out of yours, he braced his arm against the wall, brushing his lips against your neck. He trailed his mouth along the length of your neck slowly, agonizingly slow at that.

He was teasing you.

You gnawed viciously on your lower lip and put a hand against his shoulder, pushing with enough force to elicit a grunt. However, he only lifted his head away from the base of your neck and pushed his mouth over yours once again, smothering your moans and whines.

As much as you craved him to be only yours for the night, everything felt amiss. The circumstances, the room, and even him. And as he reached under your uniform, you stopped him and shoved him away. The impact made him stumble back into the table, the chairs rattling violently. Certainly someone would have heard the ruckus.

To say that you caught him off-guard was an understatement. You had never witnessed Kylo Ren in such a vulnerable state, so unsure of what had just transpired. You weren’t sure what prompted you to respond that way, either.

You racked your brain for a reason, a clever excuse. But, none came.

“Kylo,” you called, shaking your head as you fixed your breathing. That seemed to bring to out of his stupor as his expression melted back into the neutral one you which you were accustom. His face projected calmness, but you couldn’t forget the hurt you saw flicker past his eyes among the myriad of other emotions. 

“This is wrong, Kylo. You know it is.” This was the argument you used. Neither of your knew it was true.

The footsteps he took towards you were powerful and deafening in your ears. You couldn’t reach the door fast enough, and you didn’t. He held you by wrist and reeled you closer, his expression unreadable.

You twisted your wrist out of his loose grip, glaring vehemently.

“Don’t touch me!”

He stopped pursuing you, the arm he had extended towards you fell limply at his side and he clenched his fist, perhaps in restraint or something else. You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

As you continued on your path out of the workroom, he called your name.

“Don’t run away from me!”

You did, and he didn’t follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the last part. so, we've reached the end of this. thank you for all of the kind words and kudos throughout this! i hope everything is satisfactory and enjoy! ♥

Aytris-9 was cold.

There were varying factors which contributed to this. Most would say it was the result of the base’s geographical location, and it being isolated in the most mountainous region on the planet. Others would claim that Aytris-9 was mainly defunct subsequent to the creation of Starkiller. The handful of officers and specialists on base only concerned themselves with running it at minimal capacity, despite the inconvenience to them. Those reasons weren’t wrong; however, you believed the numbing cold to be caused by something else.

Kylo Ren was still there.

Shortly following his arrival, the base became still. Just the sight of him put new technicians and old alike into states of paralyzing terror, jostling them into correct postures fit for the commander to see. The air which carried jovial laughter and banter faded the moment he entered the room, disquiet in the minds of those around him. Their lips sealed shut as though he had forced it himself. And they would work in silence, eyes unfaltering from their screens.

You couldn’t be more different, you couldn’t be more annoyed. Often times when he strode into the room, always accompanied by a captain, you found your gaze floating away from the workload spread out before you and fixating on him. There your mind drifted into a haze and you conjured up the memories from that night where the smoothness of his lips left a trail of fire on your neck, and your mouth tingled from the pressure of the kiss. You knew yourself being seduced by him and how roughly he grabbed you, how closely he held you against his body.

Afterwards, you ducked your eyes to avoid meeting his and fidgeted in your chair, fiddling with the neat row of supplies laid out before you. He knew that you were still thinking of him, still craving him and his touch. He remained the vice you couldn’t curb and despite everything, you felt certain enough that you didn’t want to.

It was truly a pathetic thing. But, you knew there existed an intangible force that kept you from escaping, a tempestuous power that only grew stronger with each parting. Your will to fight against it was waning, something you realized when he appeared before you after such a long time.

He approached you in the corridor one evening, his voice sharp and unsettling with the distortion the mask provided. You were keenly aware that he stood in your path, purposely thwarting your progress with a wide stance and his fists at his sides. You wouldn’t pretend to know what he had planned, nor what had him as agitated as he was.

You dug your heel into the floor, preparing to turn the other way to avoid the confrontation altogether. He had already anticipated that.

“I will be returning to Starkiller base tomorrow.” He said it calmly enough. What caught your attention was the tense silence thereafter. You didn’t give a typically underwhelming response, and he didn’t retort with scathing snark. 

Truthfully, you didn’t know what to say to him. There would always be a part of you that rejoiced when he was gone because it would set you at ease. You could watch him walk away a thousand times and each time would send relief rippling through your body. At your core, what you wanted the most left you conflicted and helpless.

You parted your lips to speak with the urge in the back of your throat, yet you couldn’t emit a sound. The notion of walking away from the situation felt refreshing and sorely tempting, especially with how intently he observed your actions. Most startling to you was his patience, he never made a motion to pry the answer out of you. You assumed that he wanted something from you that was unprovoked, an insight into your true feelings.

It was something you couldn’t give him.

Rooted to where you stood, you scoured your mind for a satisfying response. There must have been something that bothered him in the way your expression changed with the possibilities you considered, perhaps it was that his presence alone wasn’t enough to coax a response. Soon enough, he was in your space, his masked face nearing close to yours.

He kept a sizable gap between your bodies, but you noticed his fingers twitching and his reluctance to come any closer. The sight of it struck you as nostalgic. It was all very reminiscent of days long gone, to a time you couldn’t return to and rewind.

You lifted your hand easily and stroked the side of his mask, familiarizing yourself once again with the different textures on it. There was a sense of disappointment that came with touching the cool surface of the mask opposed to his skin. You longed to see his face again.

A smile threatened to twitch its way to your lips as his larger fingers threaded through yours and held your palm firm against his face. He stepped closer to you, his chest bumping yours briefly before he lowered his head inches from your own. It was almost childlike, you thought. It was as though he was about to divulge a secret to you and feared the walls could hear.

“Return with me to Starkiller.”

Scandalous, indeed.

Every ounce of muscle control in your mouth couldn’t keep your smile. For an instant, you thought this was his idea of a cruel joke or a trap. Your expression grew severe as you searched his mask for any indication of this being a ploy. Something in you wished it had been, even when you reached the conclusion that it was not.

He was serious.

You immediately recoiled, catching yourself and Kylo off-guard. Despite your quickness to put a gap between your bodies, the thick cloud shrouding your mind lifted away, bathing you in calmness. He could see the resolution in your eyes as much as you felt it in your chest.

“I’m not leaving Aytris-9, Kylo,” you said, steadily. He slowly straightened his posture, knuckles showing through the thick fabric of his gloves as he clasped his fists. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge, draining you of much of the courage you had built up. He was angry, that much you could discern from his body language and the stiffness of his body.

You took heedful steps back from him, managing to keep your wild heartbeat and the instinctual urge to flee from shadowing your judgment. His voice through that gravelly mask never ceased to make you jump, even when you expected it.

“So, that is your decision.” He didn’t sound surprised, it unnerved you. You watched him pace back and forth several times, as though conflicted on the matter himself. Eventually, he whipped around and looked at you, his cloak winding around his legs.

He waited a moment, and then asked gratingly: “Why?”

What confused you the most was his ambiguity towards why he was so upset. Truthfully, he didn’t have a legitimate reason to bring you back with him to Starkiller. You knew that no amount of lust or unseen powers would undermine what he set out to do. After all, you were but one person in the expanse of the galaxy, insignificant and small.

You didn’t contemplate your answer much, there wasn’t any need to. The simplicity of it only frustrated him further.

“Because I love it here.”

Again, he turned your words over in his head. You knew he thought you were lying, that it couldn’t have been so straightforward as that. And it wasn’t. It was visible on your face and in the way you picked at the blistered skin on the side of your nail. But, you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing everything.

He saw that defiance in your eyes and strode towards you. A rush of panic shook you so suddenly that you couldn’t react when he shot by. You felt the blast of air against your face, tickling your neck only for a moment before it dissipated.

It took you a long time to ease your muscles enough to face the direction in which he fled. The corridor before you seemed to widen and extend the longer you studied it, the rows of doors stretched on endlessly. He could have gone through any of those doors, or even wandered elsewhere in the base in his current state.

As archaic as Aytris-9 was in comparison to Starkiller, it was designed to swallow people with little knowledge of its layout. A defensive tactic finalized during the construction of the base long ago, and what you had learned through experiences of your own. For someone like Kylo, you were doubtful that he would face the difficulties that others would.

But, in his state of ire, you couldn’t disregard the possibility entirely.

It wasn’t until later that you found him, the result of your superiors stumbling through their words in sheer terror, cowering in the command center with several of the technicians. Word of your experience handling the aftermath of Kylo Ren’s bursts of anger traveled there, leaving you to evaluate the damage alone. The captains weren’t optimistic that repairs would be funded.

When you reached him, the room was already destroyed. The smoke and heavy electrical scent already dispersed. He was hunched over the instrument panel in the farthest corner of the room. From inside the doorway, you could see his back heaving, his lightsaber discarded on the floor out of his reach.

Daringly, you ventured into the room from the safety of the outside.

To say that you were exasperated was an understatement. You were indignant; the feeling stewed in you until you ripped the tool belt from your body and it clattered on the metal table like an anchor. He was alerted to your presence and peered across his shoulder.

“Is this it? Is this how you’re going to end it, Kylo?”

He faced you fully and removed his mask with haste, dropping it to the floor at his side. His hair was matted to his face and there was something wild in his eyes. You couldn’t think to be frightened as he crossed the room towards you, his gaze never budged from yours.

When his fingers gripped the back of your neck to pull you into a rough kiss, you returned it with great fervor. You reached up and combed your fingers through his hair, tangling them behind his head as you brought his body closer to yours. He was hot beneath those robes that he wore, but the kiss was hotter and you wanted him against you more than what he was already was.

He heard your thoughts, you assumed, as you felt your body being pushed against the wall and his hips pressing forward into your own. You exhaled sharply feeling the warmth of his fingers drift away from your neck and trail down, grabbing at your waist and hips as though desperate to memorize the shape of your body.

Groaning at the touch, you loosened your fingers from his hair to ghost your knuckles along the length of his long face. He watched you throughout, studying the way your face changed as his hand delved between your bodies and stroked your thigh. This wasn’t enough for him. You had the mind to break the kiss off when as your pants loosened and he grazed his bare fingertips across your skin, and then southward.

He swallowed your gasp as he circled his fingers around your clit, savoring the way you fidgeted against the touch and pushed yourself against his fingers. If it were any other occasion, you would had been embarrassed to be so needy, but right now you ached. You could only imagine what it would be like to have him inside of you, enveloped in his rage and panting in your ear. You wondered if he quivered or moaned when he came?

You broke the kiss and breathed against his lips, fighting to keep your composure. “Kylo, please, if you don’t do it then I will.”

Perhaps he was convinced, or didn’t want to give you the relief of pleasuring yourself, but he obeyed. His fingers worked in long strokes at first, observing as you followed the rhythm and bit down on the corner of your lip to keep the noise minimal. As his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, he quickened the strokes. They became more frequent and rougher, coaxing a moan that made him smirk against your skin.

“You’re too quiet. I want to hear you,” he rasped, biting your skin hard enough to elicit a yelp. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?”

You tried to tell him ‘no’, that your feelings were far more complicated than just lust. The words simply wouldn’t come, it was futile. Your jaw hung slack and you bent your head back against the wall. He wasn’t getting you there fast enough, you knew he was making you wait, finding a sick delight in making you want him even more. You reached down and glided your fingers over his, guiding them over your clit until you found just the right spot that had your thighs trembling.

“No, not yet,” he whispered against your skin, his breath tickled your face. Your legs continued to shake even after he removed his fingers from your clit. Frustrated and yearning, you replaced your own fingers over the sensitive nub. You were so close to reaching your climax. If he wouldn’t finish it for you, then you didn’t have any qualms of doing it yourself letting him watch.

He wouldn’t give you that satisfaction so easily, you realized. You felt your hand being withdrawn moments before you were hoisted up by your thighs and carried to the table. He immediately began to unzip the front of your uniform, inviting the cold air circulating in the room to dance across your warm flesh. In that same motion, you helped him to shed several of his layers as well. Soon enough, he towered over you in nothing except his pants.

Your uniform shirt pooled in a heap around your wrists, your breasts and torso exposed to the air. His eyes took in the sight of your body as though it were a marvel in the galaxy, you were more enthralled and eager than you were self-conscious at this point. Before long, his lips and teeth were on your neck, following the shapes of your body down to your breasts.

Through the feeling of his teeth nipping at your skin and his hands fondling your breast hard, you slid your pants and underwear down your legs and flicked them off your ankles. He took that as his chance to spread your thighs apart and grind his crotch against your clit. Your body shuddered at the proximity.

He left a final mark on your breast before raising his face up, his eyes locked on yours, lips but mere centimeters apart. You heard a rustle of clothing as he unclasped his pants and pulled his cock out. There was an undeniable urge to let him have you right then as he guided himself to your entrance and pulled your hips up.

But, instead, an impish smile stretched across your lips. You draped your hand over top of the one he had on his cock and lead him through the strokes. He set his jaw and braced himself against you, exhaling loudly through his nose. Your hold stayed firm as you jerked the length of his cock again and again, relishing how his body lurched against yours.

He sensed your amusement, a hint of spite that flashed in his eyes. Even when he reeled his hand away from yours, you continued to torture him. You swept your fingers along his cock, massaging the tip with your thumb. He grasped the edge of the table, knuckles bleeding to white. It evoked a sense of power,, seeing him so vulnerable because of you.

You gnawed on your lip as you slid his cock against you, rocking your hips with the smooth movement when you reached your clit. It was more than he could handle.

“Let me have you.” His voice rumbled near your ear. It was difficult to deny him what he wanted after that, so you conceded and pushed his tip into you. A gasp quivered from your lips as he thrust into you, his hips flush against yours for the briefest moment before he pulled out and slid back inside. He stifled a moan on your neck, his hot tongue tasting your flesh. His thrusts became more forceful and greedy, his fingers splayed across your hips and left deep marks.

You couldn’t have been any more turned-on by this right now. He was almost savage in the way he fucked you, removing himself to where only the head of his cock was still in your pussy before he pounded into you again, his hips creating a delicious friction against yours.

He was coming closer to reaching his end, his nails were buried in your skin and his face never strayed from your neck. Though the sensations coursing your body left your surroundings nothing but a blur, you weren’t getting there fast enough. You still ached for more and made sure he knew it as you stroked your clit roughly, emitting a cry loud enough that prompted him to look at you.

When he tore your fingers away to replace them with his own, you wondered if he disliked not being the one to make you whimper. Regardless, the strokes he delivered to your clit made you twitch against him violently as the pleasure rolled in waves. The pressure was built in your gut.

Your found yourself clutching him to your chest, nails biting into his shoulders. Other than the drumming of your heartbeat in your ears, you could only hear Kylo ragged breathing. You could hear him catch the moans in his throat and release them quietly. His body shook under your fingertips.

His last few thrusts were what did you in. You squirmed against his fingers and rode them hard, shuddering harshly as you came, your walls clenching around his cock. For the first time that evening, he let out an audible moan and hissed something under his breath as he grasped your hips tightly. He pulled out of you as he came, his cum spurting between your thighs.

He slumped against your body and remained still for sometime. The only indication you had that he was even still conscious at that time were the gentle puffs of moist air blowing across your skin. His hold around your waist stiffened when you tried to move away.

“Kylo, it won’t be good if we’re caught like this,” you reasoned, straightening yourself into a more comfortable position. When you met his gaze, any modicum of hope you had was lost. His dark eyes were glazed, still burning with that insatiable hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. You withered under the stare.

You sputtered incoherently as he pulled your hips towards the edge of the table, trailing his fingers along the length of your thighs. Once he hooked your legs around his waist, he rested his palms on either side of you and leaned forward.

“I won’t let it end here.”

As cryptic as those words sounded, there wasn’t a need to decipher them. He roamed your body eagerly, searing all of you into his mind though he were afraid you would vanish forever.

You didn’t.


End file.
